


the thrill of affection

by wondybread



Category: Booksmart (2019)
Genre: Amy has a fondness for tall women, F/F, Hope melts for Amy you guys, more Molly in later chapters
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-12-15
Updated: 2020-03-30
Packaged: 2021-02-26 05:08:51
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 4
Words: 8,270
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21798130
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/wondybread/pseuds/wondybread
Summary: Hope is always watchful and lately, Amy has been watching back.
Relationships: Amy/Hope (Booksmart)
Comments: 27
Kudos: 376





	1. eyes are the window

According to Amy, Hope has always been watchful. _You mean quiet,_ Molly had suggested in their freshman year as Hope's lanky figure strolled by. Amy had shaken her head. _No, because it's an active quiet. There's purpose._ Molly had stared at her for a moment before moving on.  
  
So, on their last day of high school, when she hears a "hey, Amy" in a soft voice, Amy is genuinely confused, almost reaches into her bag for another pencil to hand over because surely that's the only reason sharp, brooding Hope would be trying to get her attention. The exchange isn't pleasant, confirmed by Molly who mutters "bitch" under her breath behind Amy as Hope shoots her a disdainful look. But there's something _else_ in Hope's eyes just a moment before that confuses Amy even more, which she will forget by the end of the school day. Her biggest takeaway is that Hope, always watching and always waiting, doesn't initiate conversation. And if she does, Amy is compelled to listen.  
  
Years later, Amy meets Hope for coffee, both on the brink of starting their freshman and sophomore years of college, respectively. Hope had suggested the coffee shop, even though it’s almost 8:00 pm. But Amy doesn’t mind. Amy doesn’t quite know how to explain it but seeing Hope reminds her of the sensation that comes with gliding along the bottom of a pool. Somehow, both calming and thrilling. But instead of Ryan, Amy’s diving for Hope.  
  
"Amy," Hope says by way of greeting, looking up from her book with penetrating eyes. As Amy sits down across from Hope, Amy thinks how the word watchful still applies.  
  
"Hey, Hope," Amy says and she tries not to cringe at how breathless she sounds. Hope is breath-taking after all, lounging as if this meeting of theirs is a normal occurrence. It isn’t. If the way her stomach flips over and over again is any indication. "3 months since I last saw you. It's been a long time."  
  
"It has."  
  
Amy would have been somewhat disappointed by this response if not for the way Hope leans towards her, the way Hope's eyes rove over Amy's face. Amy shifts slightly under the scrutiny.  
  
"I've missed you," Amy blurts out. _Way to go, Antsler,_ Amy chastises, mentally smacking herself. She watches the way the corners of Hope's eyes crinkle when she smiles and something seizes in Amy’s chest at the sight. She thinks recklessly, resolutely of taking Hope with her back to her dorm.  
  
"I've missed you too, Amy," Hope says in her soft way. It sounds like liquid ambrosia the way Hope says her name. She wants to find a way to bottle it up.  
  
A beat of silence passes between them and normally Amy feels silences crawl across her skin. But seeing Hope smile and being around Hope in general makes Amy feel like the sun has settled itself in her chest.  
  
“How are you liking New York?” Amy asks after awhile.  
  
Hope shrugs. “It’s a nice change of pace from L.A. The coffee’s good. What about you? Settling in ok?”  
  
Amy nods. “My dorm is all set up, for the most part. I just have to build my desk chair. But,” Amy hesitates. “Being here, getting around and all that, is overwhelming. It makes me miss Molly. I’m practically desperate for someone familiar. So, seeing your face is a godsend.”  
  
Amy tries to be nonchalant, prays that Hope doesn’t see right through her and see how Amy is so full of loving and longing when Hope looks her way. She's desperate to hide how intensely Amy _craves_ her. But when Hope levels her gaze at Amy, the thought evaporates. Amy feels the world shift in response, the air crackling around them ready to strike the ever-present spark between them. It throws Amy back to their last day in Ms. Fine’s class as she remembers stopping short at the same tunneled focus in Hope’s eyes. But this time it’s more. Something like a mix between adoration and hunger. Amy shudders. But if Hope notices, she doesn’t say anything.  
  
“Well, I can help. I could come over and we can map out how to get to school and grocery stores and stuff. I can help with the chair thing too. I just put together a shelf actually. I can also bring my tool belt because I assume you don’t have one,” Hope pauses. “That is if you want.” And she sounds so thoughtful and casual, Amy finds herself saying yes. Even as her mind produces an image of Hope in little else but a tool belt. _Christ._  
  
They finish up their coffee and Amy suggests that they walk back to her dorm. Mostly so Hope can assess the chair and determine what tools she’ll need (and leave the tool belt at home, away from Amy’s fantasies). But also because a small, insistent part of her just wants to be around Hope for a little while longer. Or more simply, just wants Hope. In any way possible. With every fiber of her being. _Simple,_ Amy thinks derisively.  
  
Hope gives her a small smirk as she holds the door open for Amy on their way out. It makes Amy wildly suspicious that going home with Amy was wholly Hope’s idea all along.  
  
\---  
  
They’re walking side by side on the wet sidewalk, with Amy watching the way Hope’s shoes walk carefully around puddles. It’s moments like these that Amy is hyperaware of how tall Hope is. There’s no subtle way to look at your crush when she’s also model-tall. Amy’s gaze slides to Hope’s loose hand but Amy doesn’t reach for her.  
  
"Amy?"  
  
"Yeah?" Amy says, glancing at Hope and is it really such a bad thing if she stares at Hope’s face a beat longer than necessary? Also, will she ever get tired of Hope saying her name?  
  
"I'm not Ryan," Hope states simply. Amy frowns quickly, puzzled. But Hope raises her brow as if waiting for a confirmation.  
  
"No, you're not," Amy agrees slowly, frown still in place.  
  
"So, if Ryan is your type, how exactly do we work out?" Hope asks, gesturing between them. Amy looks sideways at Hope who meets her gaze briefly with impassive eyes.  
  
"Are you asking me if I find you attractive, Hope?" Amy quips, grinning, but Hope doesn’t take the bait.  
  
"Not necessarily. Just don't understand how you can go from Ryan to..." Hope trails off with a shrug. Amy pulls up short and Hope follows suit. Amy searches Hope’s face, notes the curiosity when Hope arches an eyebrow at her but also the apprehension in the way Hope stuffs her hands into her pockets.  
  
"I had known for some time that I was a lesbian. But I came out in the tenth grade because I wanted to tell my parents and Molly was so eager for me to kiss a girl for the first time," Amy says with a slight roll of her eyes and Hope suppresses a grin. "But also in part - and I'll deny this if you ever bring it up - because of the Wonder Woman movie. Seeing Gal Gadot wielding a sword with her endless legs and her overall…perfect-ness was… an enlightenment of sorts." Hope's smile grows, reaching her eyes again and Amy's heart blooms right along with her, making her brave. "So, you can imagine," Amy continues with a shy smile, stepping forward to take Hope's hand, "why I might be drawn to you."  
  
"You want me to go to Comic Con with you," Hope answers, eyes gleaming.

"What? No — "

"You like me because I'm tall," Hope interrupts, nodding sagely.  
  
"No, asshole," Amy says, shaking her head good-naturedly. "You're stunning and you've been my dream girl for the longest, even before I had fully realized it. Everyone else has been a detour." Hope's lips part slightly, eyes wide in astonishment, and Amy feels a surge of triumph in finally having the upper hand.  
  
"You fucking charmer," Hope murmurs finally, surprise still lacing her tone before leaning down and kissing her. It feels like a key clicking into place and opening the floodgates for everything Amy has been harboring for Hope over the past year. When they pull apart, Hope’s eyes are golden and Amy feels the good kind of lightheadedness.

"So, you want me to role-play Wonder Woman for you one of these days?" Hope asks with a wicked grin.  
  
"Fuck right off, Hope," Amy says, shoving her playfully and turning to walk away, cheeks flushing. Amy hears Hope's airy laugh behind her before she feels Hope slip a hand into hers. Amy didn't think it was possible to be more happy at the idea of bringing Hope back to her dorm. She doesn't mind being wrong.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> thanks for reading!


	2. closing in

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Hope and Amy go to put together a chair. But don't.

They make it to Amy's dorm without much incident. Amy flicks on the lights and watches Hope give the room a once-over as she shuts the door.  
  
"It's kind of small. But they were nice enough to let me join a freshman/sophomore residence," Amy tells her, watching her closely.  
  
"It's nice. It's you," Hope responds, motioning to the posters and protest signs up on her wall. There’s a fondness in Hope’s voice that makes Amy feel strangely proud. "It's very nice that you managed to get a single as well."  
  
Hope sends her a scorching look, and Amy goes slack-jawed for a moment; she barely feels the blush rising to her cheeks.  
  
"I - um, yeah. I had, you know, requested it...being an only child and all that." _Back to being the stuttering nerd wonder_ , Amy groans internally. "We can be as loud as we want to."  
  
Amy freezes. She prays to all the gods for the floor to open up and swallow her whole. But it remains stubbornly closed beneath her feet.  
  
Hope nods, expressionless save for her lips which are pressed into a thin line. "Won't bother anyone with all the noise we make."  
  
Amy's eyes widen. It was an innocent enough statement, they were going to take the chair out of its box after all. But it didn't escape Amy's notice the way the end of Hope's sentence nose-dived into what she would almost call...seductive. Hope speaks again before Amy can dwell on it.  
  
"This is it, right?"  
  
"Uh, yes."  
  
Hope is already moving toward the box, pulling the flaps apart with ease. Hope guides the box onto its other side and fishes for the instructions before plopping onto the floor. Amy stands for a moment, unsure, before sitting cross legged on the edge of her bed. She allows herself a moment to observe Hope, whose lips are pulled into a frown as she reads.  
  
On dark days, Amy doesn't really understand how they work. Sometimes, she feels like she's the opposite of everything Hope is. Hope with her endlessly flawless face and sun-kissed skin. Hope who is artistic and intelligent and who knows exactly what she wants. Hope who could have anyone she wants.  
  
"So, have you met anyone at school?" Amy says before she can stop herself.  
  
Hope shrugs without looking up. "Yeah, from like class and stuff."  
  
Amy's heart sinks a little against her will. Maybe she had been right all along, that this whole thing they've been doing was casual at best. At worst, purely one-sided. Maybe she had only been a handful of hiccups in Hope's life. Nothing more.  
  
"Oh. Are you like seeing anyone...or I mean...dating or whatever?" Amy asks. She's trying to sound offhand but she suspects it just sounds pathetic. Regardless, it seems to grab Hope's attention, who looks up at her with something like confusion.  
  
"No."  
  
Amy can't help herself. "Why?"  
  
Hope tilts her head slightly at Amy, placing the instructions on top of the box. Amy notes the initial flicker of surprise in Hope's eyes before they settle into something else that's foreign to Amy. They leave Amy with the strange feeling of being hunted. Hope pushes herself to Amy and up onto her knees in one fluid motion that makes Amy's mouth go dry.  
  
She places her hands on Amy's thighs delicately, almost tauntingly. Amy inhales sharply, feels the heat of Hope's hands even through her jeans.  
  
"Why do you think?"  
  
Hope's tone had dipped again, undeniably so. Amy's pulse quickens and Hope's looking at her in way that prevents Amy from forming any coherent thought. Not that it matters. Because Hope rushes forward a moment later, kissing Amy for the second time that night. Amy has to lean down a little bit to meet her, but this barely registers because Hope's kissing her with an urgency that wasn't there before.  
  
It's explosive.  
  
And before Amy is even aware of it, she's on her back in her bed with Hope poised above her, trademark smirk in place.  
  
"You're so fucking hot," Hope breathes.  
  
"What?" Amy can't help the way she frowns in disbelief. But Hope kisses her again swiftly, as if pushing the question back down her throat.   
  
"You're so fucking hot," Hope repeats, punctuating every word with a fiery kiss along a path from her neck to collarbone. And Amy feels hot. But hot in the way that she wants to rip off all of her clothes and then Hope's. Or vice versa. Honestly, she's not picky.  
  
Hope's hands are under her shirt, and she unclasps Amy's bra with little effort. Amy reaches under her sleeves, grabbing the straps and pulling her bra through before she stops.  
  
"Wait."  
  
Hope pulls back immediately. "Are you ok?"  
  
"Yeah, I just wanted to make sure that you knew I didn't bring you back here for sex," Amy tells her a little sheepishly.  
  
"No?" Hope arches an eyebrow at her playfully, and Amy finds it surprisingly charming.  
  
"No," Amy says slowly.  
  
"Unfortunate," Hope replies with a disarming smile as Amy's cheeks flush.  
  
"I just didn't want to like, objectify you or anything," Amy says quickly.  
  
"Well, I don’t mind as long as it’s by you. Especially tonight," Hope murmurs. Amy grins and moves to pull in Hope for a kiss but Hope shifts away out of her reach.  
  
"You know, I don't think I ever got your consent. You have mine, by the way," Hope tells her. Amy stares at her for a moment.  
  
"Hope, what the fuck? Of course, of course I consent to have sex with you, I mean look at you. And it's been three months," Amy replies in exasperation. She hears the whine in her voice and decides that she really doesn't care for the moment.  
  
"Consent is important, Amy," Hope admonishes, grinning. And Amy is so appalled that she can't think of a reply. Amy hates how much Hope's enjoying this.  
  
"You're cute when you pout," Hope chuckles, taking off her shirt and throwing it onto the floor.  
  
Amy looks up, away from anything that's Hope's as if this will prevent her from thinking about Hope’s legs and lips and bare skin. It doesn't. A fire reignites itself in Amy's stomach. Hope lowers herself gently onto Amy, eyes dark and eager, drawing Amy’s gaze back.  
  
"Don't worry, we won't waste anymore time," Hope tells her, somehow both lustful and matter-of-fact.  
  
And they don't as they make short work of their clothes. Hope is kissing Amy hard, with Amy's legs wrapped loosely around her. Amy feels Hope thrust her hips against her and a moan escapes Amy. Without thinking, Amy's hips thrust back. Everything feels both too much and not enough. Hope's hands stay irritatingly away.   
  
"Touch me," Amy says through her teeth. Her breath hitches as Hope pulls away from her nipple to kiss her lips.  
  
"Patience, baby," Hope breathes, kissing her neck and sucking slowly on Amy's pulse point.  
  
"No," Amy snaps, her voice low. Her hips buck forward again pointedly. Hope kisses her again, smirk on her lips before she reaches down and obliges. Amy gasps at the contact. It’s only a matter of minutes before Amy is completely undone.  
  
New York, Amy concludes, is overwhelming and what with Hope having lived here for a year now, Hope is part-New Yorker too. This should have been a sign that Hope can be just as overwhelming.  
  
"Good, Amy?" Hope whispers into her ear and Amy hums her assent.  
  
Amy takes a moment to catch her breath before rolling them over, pinning Hope to her bed. Amy brushes a lock of hair away from Hope’s face, savoring the sight of Hope underneath her. She leans down to Hope slowly, intently, places soft kisses from the base of Hope's throat to her chin.  
  
"I hope," Amy starts, kissing Hope quickly with soft, hot lips, "that you'll be as patient as I was."  
  
Hope lets out a strangled laugh in response, stopping abruptly when Amy drags a thumb across Hope’s cheek tenderly, her hand settling at the point below Hope’s jaw. Amy kisses her lips deliberately before moving lower. When Amy brings her mouth to Hope’s breast, Hope arches into her touch, breathing erratic and legs falling open restlessly beneath Amy.  
  
_So much for patience_ , Amy thinks smugly.  
  
"Amy..." Hope breathes, panting and pleading as she urges Amy up to her. Hope drapes an arm around Amy's neck, pulling her down into a searing kiss. And Amy adores how _desperate_ Hope sounds, the way she moans into Amy’s mouth as Amy palms the swell of Hope’s breast, her other hand drifting lower still. Amy decides then that she'll do practically anything for Hope to say her name that way again and again.  
  
\---  
  
The sky is still mostly dark as Amy blinks blearily to the sound of her soft alarm. Amy silences it quickly and glances down at Hope's sleeping figure, hand atop Amy's stomach and lips so close to the point of Amy's shoulder. Bare back exposed...  
  
Amy looks up at the ceiling and bites hard at the inside of her cheek. She forgets sometimes how striking Hope is; sharp cheekbones, sloping jaw, full lips and all, as if carved from stone. She glances one more time at Hope's face, at the almost imperceptible frown there, before attempting to get out of bed. She's barely swung a leg on to the floor, when a gruff voice stops her.  
  
"Too early to be up."  
  
Amy stills and Hope takes advantage of this by wrapping her arm more securely around Amy's waist.  
  
"Stay, stay," Hope whispers, hot breath in Amy's ear. Amy feels her place a soft kiss just below it. Amy can't help the way she relaxes into Hope's warm body so Amy just gives in and tries not to think about all the ways she wants to give in to Hope.  
  
"I have to shower," Amy says but it comes out as a moan as Hope kisses her neck.  
  
"After," Hope murmurs, placing a feather light kiss against Amy's shoulder blade, hand on Amy's thigh. Amy feels something snap in her and she turns so quickly, Hope lets out a small gasp in response. Before Amy even realizes what she's doing, her lips are on Hope's who snakes an arm around Amy’s shoulders. Hope parts her lips for Amy and she lets herself enjoy Hope's tongue against hers before pulling away and glancing at the clock at her bedside.  
  
"I want to," Amy groans, "But Molly and I are getting breakfast. She’ll be here in an hour or so..." Amy avoids Hope's gaze, can practically feel Hope's question. "She doesn't really know about all this." Amy waves a hand between them vaguely. To Amy's surprise, Hope does not seem upset by this; she merely raises an eyebrow, intrigued.  
  
"Embarrassed of me?" Hope teases. Amy balks at this but is quickly soothed when Hope tucks a strand of hair behind her ear.  
  
"Absolutely fucking not. It's just that our interactions have always been so...sporadic. The first time we got together I thought it was a one-time thing and then it happened again and again and here we are now. And it was so hard to communicate when I was in Botswana. You and I have never really had a chance to talk about what we want when I got back. So, I wasn't sure what to even tell Molly about what we were. And I mean to this day, I still don't know if you like only girls or guys too," Amy says in a rush. Amy knows she’s rambling and Hope's looking at her with impenetrable eyes.  
  
“I like you. I only want you,” Hope replies simply. Hope leans up and kisses Amy decisively, moving both hands to cup Amy’s face. It’s both tender and electrifying. Hope breaks the kiss, leaving Amy wanting and wanted.  
  
"Wait, you're not mad that I haven't told Molly?" Amy asks, eying her nervously.  
  
"No. You're right. We have been 'sporadic'," Hope says, inclining her head towards Amy in acknowledgement. But then Hope hesitates. This doesn't escape Amy's notice, and she wonders how Hope biting her lip can be both endearing and arousing. "I just wanted you to have the option to find someone. If you wanted. But I haven't been with anyone else since before I visited you in Botswana. So, I think it's safe to say that I'm all in. I want this. I want you. Only you."  
  
Amy feels time stand still and almost can’t believe her ears as Hope lifts her head to look back at Amy's clock.  
  
"I'd like to make you my girlfriend if that's cool with you but we can talk about it more later," Hope continues with a chuckle when Amy's jaw drops, but otherwise doesn’t move. A beat passes. "Amy, go shower. Can't have the wife meet the mistress."  
  
"You want me to be your girlfriend?" Amy says, dazed. Amy rises from her spot on the bed with Hope's prodding, holding the sheet in place. Hope only smirks in return as she grabs the nearest t-shirt and this seems to shake Amy out of her reverie. "Uh, that's my shirt."  
  
Hope shrugs into it and reaches for her jeans. "It's mine until you can make it up to me for kicking me out."  
  
When Hope is finished dressing, she presses her lips to Amy’s who finds herself steadily relenting. Amy loves that when Hope kisses her, the air feels different in her lungs. Hope pulls away with a self-assured grin but Amy barely notices through her haze.  
  
“Maybe we do have time for –” Amy starts but is cut off by the sound of her FaceTime ringing. Hope peers at it.  
  
“Wife’s calling. And that’s my cue.” Hope reaches for her own t-shirt on the ground and tosses it to Amy, who pulls it on somewhat reluctantly.  
  
Hope regards her for a moment before pulling Amy’s hair to the front and over her shoulders.  
  
“Gotta hide the hickeys, babe,” Hope whispers deviously.  
  
Amy feels a blush creep up onto her cheeks as a hand goes to the side of her neck. Hope pecks her lips one last time before giving Amy her still ringing phone.  
  
“Call me later, nerd,” Hope throws over her shoulder before shutting the door softly and Amy hates how she already misses her.  
  
Amy answers the call and is very distracted the first few minutes of the conversation, Hope’s scent wafting up from the shirt innocently. Amy knows that Molly notices her behavior but she doesn’t ask, and Amy doesn’t bring it up. _I'll tell her at breakfast_ , Amy decides when they get off the phone.  
  
On her way to shower, Amy sees the forgotten chair, still in its box. _One more reason to bring Hope back around_ , Amy thinks with a soft smile. New York is turning out to be everything she hoped it would be.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you for reading, as always.


	3. want and deserve

There are two things Molly is sure of. The first thing is that she is smart and capable. The second is that she loves Amy. She finds herself often thinking of that fight at Nick's party. She remembers how she and Amy had made up just before graduation, remembers it as a quick little thing because they've grown up together and have loved each other so fiercely Molly doesn't really recognize her life without Amy. Frankly, she doesn't care to know that life. Navigating and resolving post-argument things is effortless. 

And yet, Molly had ruminated on it even after. Had obsessed over it and had come to the stark, painful conclusion that sometimes she could be...abrasive. She really shouldn't have been surprised, her Lyft score is _that_ low for a reason. Nonetheless, Molly had felt unsettled. It had shaken Molly. The fact that she has sometimes smothered Amy's input in their friendship, that she had made an environment in which Amy would want to keep things from her had kept her up at night. And so, Molly set out to come up with a plan, to uproot the weeds that were clouding their friendship. She started with becoming a better listener. 

When Molly had voiced this to Annabelle, Annabelle had reached for her hand and kissed her cheek. _I think that's a great idea,_ she had said and proceeded to offer some gentle suggestions.

And Molly had listened, saving questions for the end. She had to bite her tongue to keep from interrupting but she remembers feeling proud. It was a start.

In a year's time, Molly has gotten remarkably better at listening, if she should say so herself.

So, when Amy takes her to breakfast and they're sitting at the table, having just given their order to the waiter, Molly waits, unruffled, for Amy to tell her something. Because they've grown up together and have loved each other fiercely. And she knows Amy wants to tell her something.

"Molly, you know I love you," Amy starts somewhat nervously.

"To the moon and back," Molly replies automatically.

"And you know I'd never do anything to hurt you."

"Never," Molly echoes with conviction and feels a little pang in her heart when Amy flinches. Molly wants to tell Amy that she doesn't care if Amy never hurts her, she knows this is somewhat inevitable. Molly wants to say that she only cares that there's an attempt to prevent it. Molly waits instead.

"Hope and I – " Amy cuts herself off, frowning at the silverware. Molly schools her expression into a neutral one but can't help the twitch of anticipation in her fingers. _Come on, Amy,_ Molly thinks, hoping to send the thought straight into Amy's skull. Amy opens her mouth again but then the waiter comes by with their food. When he leaves, Molly sets about cutting up her pancakes, hoping that the lack of eye contact will put Amy at ease.

"Molly?" Amy tries again.

"Yes?" Molly answers without looking up.

"Molly, could you look at me for a second?" Amy says gently. Molly obeys, pleased that Amy would want her full attention. She watches Amy take a steadying breath. "Hope and I are dating. She's my girlfriend."

_That’s my girl,_ Molly thinks proudly. 

"Amy, that's amazing, I'm so happy for you," Molly says, smiling wide. And she is. Because she's wanted this for Amy for a long time, has actually known about Hope and Amy for a long time. Amy seems to see something of this in Molly's expression and her jaw drops in response.

"You knew?" Amy cries, her voice somewhat shrill. 

Molly sends her a sheepish grin. "Yes."

"How – what – " Amy tries the find the right question.

"Well, you told me that Hope visited you in Botswana and that you guys slept together, which I still am so proud of you. I still have no idea how you managed that with your host family nearby. Hope's vagina must be magical for you to literally break all the rules and not get caught."

"Molly!" Amy hisses, looking around with red ears. Molly holds up her hands in surrender.

"Anyway, you couldn't stop smiling when you told me and it's a pretty distinct smile. You had that same one at the beginning of summer, so I know you slept together then too. Also, Annabelle confirmed it. Hope apparently likes to kiss and tell," Molly adds as an afterthought.

"But Hope just asked me to be her girlfriend, how could you possibly have known?"

"I didn't until now. But Amy," Molly says and she can't help rolling her eyes a little. "It's been a long time coming. Hope visited you in Botswana, literally just flew across the world to see you. Even after you...miscalculated. Which I still say Hope was pretty into and I will die on that hill." 

"I don't know how many other ways I can tell you that that is absolutely not true," Amy replies, her tone dry. 

"Well, maybe we should ask Hope. Regardless," Molly continues as Amy opens her mouth to protest, "No one does all that just for sex. She might have picked on you a little in high school but even I suspected it was a thinly veiled attempt to hide her feelings. Despite that, I like Hope. She's smart, funny, passionate. Like you. And you really liked her, you'd literally light up when you talked about her, Amy." Molly smiles slightly, remembering. "If Hope's who you want, then that's who you deserve and she somehow, surpassing all expectation, deserves you. Also, Annabelle said that Hope's been pining for you since like junior high."

Amy starts to speak but then stops when she registers what Molly had said.

"Wait, since middle school? We will get back to that later," Amy says, eyebrows raised. "I – you're not mad that I didn't tell you sooner? You’re not mad that it’s Hope?” Amy adds in a small voice.

"Fuck, no," Molly scoffs, and she notices how Amy's shoulders visibly relax in relief. "You like her. That means she must be pretty great, I don’t need anything else to prove that. And I meant it when I said we could have secrets. I'd like to think you'd tell me eventually. But it doesn't matter. I love you. I'm here for you. I'm listening if and when you're ready to talk, always."

Amy looks like she might cry, and Molly's shaking her head slightly at her because if Amy cries, Molly most definitely will too.

"I love you too, Molly. God, did Annabelle make you all soft?" Amy teases with a watery smile.

"No, you did."

"Wow, should we sprinkle you on some pasta? Because that was cheesy."

"That depends on if I should bend over so you can kiss my ass," Molly replies easily and Amy snorts into her coffee. "Now, can you please pass the syrup?"

Amy slides the syrup over. "So, how is Annabelle?"

"She's fine. She – " Molly cuts herself off and leans forward, squinting at Amy. 

"Dude, what?" Amy asks as she leans back, alarm evident on her face. 

"Amy, is that a hickey?!" And this comes out louder than even Molly expects, given the way Amy is shooting daggers at her as a hand flies to her neck.

"Goddamnit, Molly," Amy swears in a hushed tone, hand still on her neck.

"I'm sorry for reacting to the fact you and Hope had a quick scissoring sesh before I came over, you shouldn't have let me interrupt," Molly whispers, wiggling her eyebrows. "Love that you started the school year with a literal bang."

If possible, Amy's glare intensifies. Molly only smiles in return. Molly knows she's lucky that they're in public because from the looks of it, Amy would kill Molly if she could get away with it. 

"Fuck you, dude," Amy says, but Molly notes the way Amy's eyes gleam.

"I mean, it looks like you and Hope are the ones busy fucking," Molly returns in a sing-song voice.

When Amy laughs, Molly knows three things: that she is smart and capable and that loves Amy. And because she is smart and capable, she is able to love Amy better.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> i remember reading an interview with Katie Silberman who said that the dynamic between Molly and Amy, particularly at the end of the movie, has the structure of a break up. and i thought having them deal with another "big-change" moment is quite special. my point here is call your friends and ask them to have some pancakes with you. and thank you again for reading!


	4. the ways in which i love you

The first time Amy says she loves Hope, she says it to Molly first. Which is pretty ironic but also a little unsurprising. Amy takes it in stride.

"Hope, pizza's here," Amy calls to her, swiping away the notification on her phone. Silence. "Hope?" 

Amy looks away from her computer screen where she's FaceTiming Molly. Hope, for her part, has her headphones in as she sits cross-legged in Amy's bed, picking at Amy's throw pillow with a distant frown. Amy waves her arms to get her attention.

Hope pulls out an ear bud. "What?"

"Pizza," Amy repeats.

"What? Already? But the podcast is almost done! I only have like eight more minutes left. Stupid pizza man," Hope mutters, grabbing her wallet and walking rather huffily towards Amy's door.

"Or pizza woman," Amy calls to her.

"Is she always that grumpy?" Molly asks, drawing Amy's attention back.

Amy shrugs. "No, but she can be when it comes to her true crime. I love her anyway. Hey, did you get my care package that I –” Amy frowns in alarm as Molly looks at her with wide eyes, her jaw dropping. “What?”

“Amy,” Molly says, her voice hushed. “You love Hope?”

“Oh.” Amy feels her face redden. “Yeah.”

It’s then that she realizes that she’s never said it aloud. Which is so weird because she’s been thinking it for some time now.

Molly comes back to herself and launches into lawyer mode as Amy likes to call it.

“When did you know exactly? For how long? Has she said it to you? Hang on a sec.” Molly looks away, off-screen, bellowing, “Hey, Annabelle! Did you know Amy loves Hope?”

“What?” comes Annabelle’s sharp reply and suddenly she’s in frame next to Molly. “You love Hope?”

“It’s not that big of a deal,” Amy mumbles.

“Of course it is!” Annabelle says just as Molly says, “What the fuck are you talking about?”

Annabelle motions for Molly to continue.

“Hope is your first girlfriend. And you love her. That’s a huge deal,” Molly tells her, her eyes wide and earnest. “Hope! Hope, who you threw up on! Hope, whose butthole you – “ 

“Yeah, I got it, Molly,” Amy interrupts quickly, pinching the bridge of her nose.

“Hope doesn’t date, Amy,” Annabelle adds. “She’s had a crush on you for forever. This is like her dream come true.”

Amy squirms a little in her seat. It still shocks her that Hope could have felt anything but disdain for her before the night at Nick’s party. It’s even more shocking that the Hope she knew in high school would confide in Annabelle about her of all people. She remembers talking to Molly about Ryan, all longing sighs and elaborate daydreams, and she can’t for the life of her imagine Hope doing the same thing.

“What happened when you told her?” Molly asks, scooting closer to the camera. Her smile falters a bit when Amy doesn’t immediately reply. “You did tell her, right?”

Amy looks pointedly at her keyboard.

“I’m sure I’ve said it at some point…”

Molly closes her eyes briefly. “Amy…”

“I’ll tell her soon!” Amy says, somewhat defensive. 

She’s not putting it off. It just kind of slipped her mind. Maybe she wants the moment to be a little romantic. Whatever.

Before Amy or Molly can say anything else, Hope waltzes in, pizza in hand.

“Stupid pizza man wouldn’t shut the fuck up,” Hope grumbles, dumping the box onto Amy’s desk. 

There’s a beat of silence as Hope plops back into Amy’s bed, earbud still on place as she scrolls through her phone.

“I can’t believe that’s the girl you love,” Molly practically yells.

“Molly!” Amy hisses, glaring at her as Annabelle shoots Molly a warning look. 

“What’d the wife say now?” 

Amy glances at Hope, who’s sitting up to look at Amy curiously as she tugs her headphones off.

“Yeah, Amy. What _did_ I say?” Molly asks and Amy doesn’t even have to look at her to know she’s smirking. Amy watches, frozen, as Hope moves to stand next to Amy, peering at her computer screen.

“You know what? We’re just gonna go. See you, Amy! Bye, Hope,” Annabelle says hurriedly. Amy makes a mental note to thank her later. 

“Bye, Hope!” Molly says with a small wave. “Bye, Amy! Who doesn’t love anything or anyone. Who – “ 

Annabelle hangs up on them quickly.

“That was weird,” Hope comments, flipping open the pizza box and reaching for a slice. “What did Molly say?”

Hope hands her a slice on a paper plate with a napkin before grabbing one for herself. Amy tries not to let it show how much this modest act of love moves her.

“Just that she can’t believe how grumpy you get with your podcasts,” Amy says. 

She does feel a little guilty for not telling Hope the truth. But surely there’s a better time to say it than over a box of melted cheese?

“Podcasts can be quite immersive. What if someone switched off a movie in the middle of the movie theater?! Or a grabbed a book out of your hands while you were reading it? Who wants their stories interrupted?” Hope asks, waving her arms a bit.

“What about commercials during t.v. shows? And even commercials during podcasts?” Amy asks, genuinely curious.

Hope, who had been about to take a bite of her pizza, lowers it slightly. She opens her mouth to say something but closes it after a moment as she frowns.

“Shut up,” Hope mumbles finally.

Amy reaches around Hope for her water bottle, pressing her lips together as she does so. After a moment or so, Hope settles down on the floor and leans against Amy’s knees as she eats. And Amy, again, for reasons she can’t really give voice to just yet, is moved by this. Okay, cool. Amy loves Hope. She’d thought that loving Hope would be a little scary but really, it’s one of the easiest things in the world.

\---

“Alright, I’ll see you in class, Stuart,” Amy says as he walks away with a wave.

Amy turns back to Hope, who’s waiting patiently, chin in her hand, eyes twinkling.

“What?” Amy asks cautiously.

“You know he was hitting on you, right?”

Amy frowns before jerking a thumb in Stuart’s general direction. 

“Stuart?”

“Mhmm.”

This doesn’t make any sort of sense to Amy.

“But I’m gay.”

Hope blinks before dissolving into a short fit of laughter.

“I mean, _I_ know that but he might not,” Hope replies through a grin.

Amy’s frown deepens as she thinks back to the encounter.

“I don’t know. I think he just stopped by to say hello. And to ask for the statistics notes.”

Hope looks away for a moment, biting her lip as she does so. Amy realizes belatedly that Hope is trying not to laugh again.

“He complimented you on your nerd shirt, even though he knew nothing about it. And he probably asked for the notes to get your number,” Hope explains slowly, trying very hard to keep her laughter in, eyes gleaming.

Amy glances down at her shirt, only partially offended.

“What are you talking about? This is cool! Criminal is the epitome of good journalism and good storytelling. Everyone knows about it.”

“Oh, babe, I love you but no they don’t. Literally no one knows about it.” Hope breaks again and bursts into laughter. 

Amy’s eyes widen and her jaw drops but Hope has her face buried into her hands, her shoulders shaking with laughter, and doesn’t notice. Amy spends only a second thinking about it before she quickly composes her expression. Amy had said it first and Hope had missed it. And perhaps it’s childish but no way is Amy gonna let her say it first. Absolutely fuckin’ not.

“It’s a cool shirt,” Amy mumbles, thinking that if they keep talking Hope won’t stop to think about what she’s just said.

“Very cool,” Hope echoes breathlessly. She starts to laugh again but purses her lips to keep it in. 

“You know, assuming you're right, I’m a little offended that you find my ineptitude funny.”

Hope smiles again but her laughter seems to have run its course. Her eyes soften in a way that tells Amy that something has shifted in her. It’s one of Amy’s favorite expressions on Hope because it’s one of the rare instances where Hope’s eyes are unguarded and breath-taking.

“You’re not inept. You’re incredibly kind and incredibly sweet. And so, so beautiful. It’s very easy to fall for you. I don’t blame him.”

Amy’s still not quite used to the way Hope is so direct about what she thinks of Amy. But she maintains eye contact anyway, even as she feels a blush creep across her cheeks.

“You know, I actually listened to that one episode you recommended from Criminal. With that one guy who wrote _Just Mercy_? It was as good as you made it out to be.”

Hope launches into small spiel of her favorite parts about the episode and Amy watches her, listening and content. It’s one of the first things that makes Amy realize that loving Hope was a little inevitable.

\---

Amy hates mornings. Well, maybe not _hates_ them but they aren’t her favorite. And sleep is just so much better. But Hope is somehow the opposite. She’ll wake up much too early sometimes to shoot at sunrise. She’s begged Amy to come with her, which she has a handful of times. But more often than not, Hope will go off on her own, allowing Amy to get a few more minutes of sleep and allowing herself to shoot in peace, without Amy’s grumbling.

But Amy has to admit it, mornings haven’t been _too_ bad as of late. Because when she stays over at Hope’s, she’ll kiss Amy awake like they’re in some goddamn romance movie. Which is kind of what Hope is doing now as Amy feels Hope’s hands brush her hair away from her face. She hears Hope’s soft voice in her ear.

“Amy.”

Amy grunts without opening her eyes. “Few more minutes?”

“Sorry, I’ve let you sleep as long as I can.” There’s a beat of silence as Hope sets something on the bedside table. “Coffee’s done.”

Hope kisses the corner of Amy’s lips before moving away, and Amy opens her eyes, sitting up with a sigh. She reaches for the coffee, wondering if Hope knows all of Amy’s weaknesses.

She’s still not quite awake an hour later as Hope tugs her down the steps to the Lyft waiting for them. It’s still dark out which means that it’s fifteen til too fuckin’ early. Amy makes a mental note to reprimand Molly for choosing the earliest train time to get here.

When they get to the train station, Hope stops Amy along the wall, just under one of the New Haven departure signs. It’s not as busy as expected. _Because it’s six in the fucking morning_ , Amy thinks irritably, leaning somewhat heavily against Hope. 

Hope brushes her lips against Amy’s hairline and it fills Amy with so much, it practically physically warms her as much as Hope herself does.

“You can sleep when we get back to the apartment,” Hope says quietly, tapping away at her phone before stuffing it into her pocket.

“I don’t want to sleep while Molly and Annabelle are here,” Amy protests. “Besides, Molly will want to prep whatever it is we’ll be making for Thanksgiving.”

Amy both hears and feels Hope chuckle. Hope turns slightly, reaching for something from her backpack, which she sets down on the ledge behind them.

“Well, I brought you some extra coffee then. Hopefully, it’ll wake you up in time for the long-awaited reunion with your wife.”

Amy pulls away from Hope slightly and sees a small tumbler perched on the ledge. The sight of it makes her heart stop in her throat, the heavy weight of this small gesture making her pulse thrum. She reaches for it, turning back to Hope with a slight smile.

“Thank you. I love you. And please, don’t call her that,” Amy replies, watching Hope closely as she takes a sip.

Hope freezes briefly, before looking at her with disbelieving eyes. Amy thinks it’s kind of adorable the way Hope clears her throat, trying to play it cool.

“What was that you just said?” Hope asks.

“Thank you?”

“After that.”

Amy lowers the tumbler, arching an eyebrow as she tries not to smirk. She looks up at Hope almost challengingly.

“I love you,” Amy repeats, slowly, clearly.

Hope blinks, resisting the urge to smile. 

“You love me?” Hope says, her tone breathy, lips finally pulling into the dopiest grin Amy has ever seen.

But before Amy can respond, she hears their names being called.

“Hope! Amy!” is the only warning Amy gets before she feels a familiar body colliding with her own, arms wrapping around her shoulders.

“Amy, my little pup! It’s so good to see you! But what are you doing here? Shouldn’t you be in the museum with the other works of art?”

Amy straightens as she beams at Molly, squeezing her shoulders for a moment.

“I’ve missed you much! How is it you can look like that at this hour? Are we in a kickboxing ring? Because your beauty knocked me the fuck out.” 

“We are actually in a kickboxing class,” says a voice next to them.

Amy turns to find Annabelle with a smile. Amy steps out of Molly’s arms to pull Annabelle into a hug.

“Annabelle, I’m so glad you’re here.”

“Good to see you too, Antsler,” Annabelle greets warmly, returning the hug. “Is Hope still being a bitch to you? Because I’ll kick her ass.”

Amy laughs as she glances at Hope, who’s expression is still somewhat stunned. Annabelle is the first to comment on it.

“Dude, what is up with you?”

Hope looks at Annabelle, blinking dazed eyes.

“Amy just told me she loves me.”

“She just now told you?” Molly pipes up. Amy sends her an exasperated look.

“What do you mean?”

“She told us that she loved you when we last FaceTimed,” Molly informs her, sending Amy a warm smile.

“Two weeks ago?” Hope looks at Amy now. Amy can tell she’s not mad but she is pretty confused. “You told Molly before you told me?”

“She told me and Annabelle,” Molly corrects. “Well, she told me and I told Annabelle.”

Amy’s eyes widen. “Dude.”

Annabelle moves to stand next to Molly and tugs firmly on her sleeve.

“Hey, babe. Why don’t we shut the fuck up?” Annabelle says in a low voice. Annabelle turns to Hope and Amy, jerking a thumb over her shoulder. “We’re just gonna step away to call a Lyft.”

“I didn’t tell them on purpose,” Amy says to Hope after shooting Molly’s back an irritated glance. “It slipped out. I was going to tell you then, but I wanted the moment to be a little more romantic,” Amy admits in a small voice.

Hope doesn’t say anything, just stares at Amy with a mixture of awe, disbelief, and something else that Amy doesn’t recognize. Not yet anyway. For now, all Amy knows is that it kind of makes her insides melt and she finds it difficult to look away.

“And it didn’t seem appropriate to say it after you said it. _I_ wanted to say it first and – “

This seems to snap Hope out of her reverie.

“Whoa, when did I say it?” Hope cuts in.

“When we were eating lunch near my campus? And my friend from class stopped by to say hello?” Amy waits but Hope only has a vague frown. “You were making fun of my Criminal shirt that I was so sure everyone knew about. You said, and I quote, ‘Oh, babe I love you but no they don’t. Literally no one knows about it.’”

That’s when Amy sees the recognition dawn on Hope’s features.

“Fuck. I did, didn’t I?” Hope says with a laugh.

Amy rolls her eyes a bit, smiling. “Yeah, but it doesn’t really count because you didn’t remember. The point is I wanted you to know in this moment. Because I fuckin’ hate mornings, dude. And I don’t think I’ll ever like them but at least, you make them a little more bearable. So, yeah. I love you.”

Hope stares again and takes a step toward Amy, Hope’s eyes rooting Amy to her spot.

“Lyft’s here!” Annabelle calls to them.

A flash of irritation crosses Hope’s features as she waves a dismissive hand in Annabelle’s general direction. But then Hope’s expression relaxes, and she reaches up to cup Amy’s cheek, leaning down as she does so.

“I love you too,” Hope tells her softly. And Amy can’t respond because a millisecond later, Hope’s lips are on hers. It feels so good, a bit like the first time they kissed. Although, a lot of their kisses feel like that. If Amy needed a wake up call, she sure as hell got one. Hope pulls away much too soon, and Amy hears a distant whooping. A few moments later, Annabelle and Molly are at their sides.

“Alright, that’s enough, pervert,” Hope tells Annabelle, giving her a light shove. Molly, to her credit, grins and wiggles her eyebrows at Amy but otherwise doesn’t say anything. 

Hope takes Amy’s hand and glances back at her with a smile as they follow Molly and Annabelle towards the street. Amy promises herself that she’ll wake up with Hope the next time she wants to shoot at sunrise. She knows that as much as she whines, it’s always worth it to wake up to Hope.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> looks like we've reached the end, hope you've enjoyed it. thank you so much for reading. follow me here i guess: whenfliespig.tumblr.com.
> 
> also if anyone's interested and/or looking for some soothing true crime or whatever, i do recommend listening to that episode. because it really is good: https://open.spotify.com/episode/3kGaYox0LKLVg2mxChznda


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